Willows.. verse by Stan Adler

WILLOWS...

In the desert country where brush grows rank The willows that grow on a river bank Seem to spread like a refuge that nature made For both cowboys an' critters to find their shade. When the sun beats down an' the mesa's hot, The cattle will hunt up a loafin' spot Where the willow trees reach up their limbs plumb high An' a calm thread of water keeps flowin' by.

Of all of the places where God made trees, There is hardly a spot they're more bound to please Than under the vast cloudless skies of blue Where spaces are wide an' where trees are few. When the heat turns yore hide to a sundried crust An' yore pony's been kickin' up heaps of dust, It is shorely peart to pull out a match An' roll you a smoke in a willow patch.

Now I will allow that I wouldn't change My old stompin' grounds on the desert range Where the mesa rolls onward for miles ahead An' where every young waddie's got room to spread. But out in a country of all-year sun, When you've rode the trail an' yore chores are done, There's nothin' so soothin', you'll all agree, As findin' the shade of a willow tree.